


remember us to life

by 13pens



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Fluff, Humor, Light Angst, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 09:48:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9118369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/13pens/pseuds/13pens
Summary: Henry is right, Regina thinks as she opens the door to let the whole round of Charmings inside, helps Emma and David put away the food and drinks they brought. Henry is right especially when Regina and Emma make eye contact and Emma has to smile and duck her head, when their talk is small but laden with all this care that Regina doesn’t know what to do with. Henry is right when all they can do is poke fun at each other like Emma didn’t just almost die in Regina’s arms a month ago and Regina didn’t just almost die trying to heal her.Henry is right when all Regina is trying to do right now is suppress the old epiphany that she’s in love with Emma Swan.Or,that feel when you're so gay you accidentally erode a small fishing town in Maine.-- Post season 6A, diverges from canon after 6x10: The split Reginas thing is resolved and Emma survived Death.





	1. and every time we kiss we [LOUD STATIC]

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. um. i don't know what this is. it was supposed to be purely a comedy, but this is swan queen we're talking about, and swan queen in the context of a very emo canon lmao. so here's an... emomedy???? for the good ol' New Year. 
> 
> 2\. warnings: as this is diverges from canon after 6x11, hook does exist and is talked about, but never makes an appearance, and golden queen does remain a thing that happened, but never again happens here. cause god wtf. 
> 
> 3\. also uh this is the first time i've ever written smut and published it since i was like a tiny 12 year old heathen so! have fun with that!
> 
> 4\. title is from regina spektor's entire newest album, because i'm transparent. chapter title is the goddamn cascada song

Two bubbly dings on Regina’s phone. She sees the notification and scowls.

 

“I swear if this is another one of those ridiculous 4:20 snaps,” Regina mutters, tapping irritatedly at her screen. 

 

Henry laughs from the couch, sitting with criss-crossed legs with his face behind his assigned reading for winter break. “It’s 4:14, you don’t have to worry just yet.”

 

Regina makes an unsatisfied hum, convinced that Henry and Emma got her a smartphone for Christmas to replace her old blackberry for this precise reason. She leans back into the armchair and picks up her mug of tea from the end table, and taps the red square and Emma’s name. “Hm. Neal with the dog filter.”

 

“It  _ is _ his favorite filter.”

 

“It’s everyone’s favorite filter.”

 

She tries to hide her smile as she points her camera at Henry’s face. When the app doesn’t register him she asks him to move his book down, to which he groans and laughs with an exaggerated  _ mo-om _ . 

 

“My little puppy prince,” she says while captioning the snap as such, and giggles when his only response is an “ugh.”

 

She looks through Emma’s story, full of last whatnots of the year. Henry stares at her from above the book and she quirks an eyebrow at him, puts down her phone on the end table. “What?”

 

“You know it’s been about a month.”

 

Regina retains eye contact, but turns her head slightly. He doesn’t elaborate, but she knows. Her mind goes back a few Sundays and it’s not very pleasant, the memory of how heavy Emma felt in her arms, how warm her blood was. If only there were dog filters for  _ that _ .

 

“I’m aware of the passage of time.” 

 

Henry sets down the book on his lap, still open but Regina’s sure he has no intention of continuing. “Have you like… you know. Talked to Ma. About what happened. Instead of send each other silly snapchats.”

 

“It’s not a big deal, Henry.” And god, it’s disgraceful. It’s a sentence made up of Emma words dressed up in Regina inflections. She sips her tea to cover up her shame.

 

“Mom. You saved her with––”

 

Before he can continue, both of their phones ding, a mild cacophony of bubbles and light saber sound effects. Henry’s the first to flip over his phone.

 

He cracks a smile that reaches his eyes for a second, flicking his gaze to her. “Don’t open it.”

 

It takes Regina a moment before she pinches the bridge of her nose. “I’m going to  _ kill _ her.”

 

*

  
  
  


Henry is right, Regina thinks as she opens the door to let the whole round of Charmings inside, helps Emma and David put away the food and drinks they brought. Henry is right especially when Regina and Emma make eye contact and Emma has to smile and duck her head, when their talk is small but laden with all this care that Regina doesn’t know what to do with. Henry is right when all they can do is poke fun at each other like Emma didn’t just almost die in Regina’s arms a month ago and Regina didn’t just almost die trying to heal her. 

 

Henry is right when all Regina is trying to do right now is suppress the old epiphany that she’s in love with Emma Swan.

 

And she’s ashamed that the one person she actually owes an honest conversation is the one she hasn’t given it to yet. It’s not like Snow, who is honestly only here because Regina’s trying not to be petty, with whom she’s allowed to create distance because there’s only so much closeness you can handle when someone who allegedly cares about you calls the product of your trauma the worst part of yourself. Emma––she’s already done her part, has already held her hand and apologized and promised to listen. The  _ least _ Regina could do is talk about her  _ feelings _ .

 

“I thought I said nothing from Snow White’s oven besides you and the baby,” Regina says without any bite as she sets a covered aluminum tray on the kitchen counter.

 

Emma scrunches up her face. “Don’t… don’t call my mom’s womb an  _ oven _ .” Regina laughs. “And also, they’re onion rings from Granny’s. I know you secretly like them. Everybody does.  _ Also _ I drove out of town to get this bottle of Patrón.” Emma places it gingerly on the counter with finality. “So like, appreciate me.”

 

“Oh yes,” Regina drawls, lifting the bottle and marveling at it herself. “I appreciate you very much.”

 

Dinner starts not soon after around seven. Regina had gotten a new, bigger table and even then the elbow room is lacking; even Zelena who holes up in her room with the baby like a teenager is down here, laughing, toasting. 

 

It’s also Zelena who unearths the goddamn karaoke machine from Regina’s basement, and to Regina’s annoyance it’s Emma who enthusiastically plugs it in, pours everyone except Snow and the kids two shots, cuts the damn limes herself. (“This is a  _ real _ party now, Regina. It’s not a real party without the karaoke.”)

 

Zelena has Robyn’s baby monitor in one hand and the mic in the other going absolutely at it down the ABBA list, and no one really remembers how David’s tie ended up around her forehead. Baby Neal is sitting on Snow’s lap as she bounces her knees to the rhythm and holds his elbows to help him clap along; David is scanning the songbook with deep concentration. Henry is snapchatting the entire thing.

 

“Damn, how long has she been here?” Emma says incredulously, plopping down next to Regina on the couch with a wine glass of orange juice, the epitome of classy. “How has she had the time to know all these songs by heart.”

 

“You should hear her try to sing the baby to sleep with 4 Non Blondes.” Regina rests her elbow on the armrest and holds her forehead. “I should’ve never told her I had that in the basement.”

 

Emma nudges her shoulder. “I’m surprised you own it. What, were you the karaoke queen of Storybrooke back in the day or something?”

 

“It was another life,” Regina sighs dramatically, corners of her lips upturned as she splays her hand out to look at her nails. “I’ve left it behind.”

 

The laugh that comes from Emma is light and bubbly and Regina just smiles all the way to her eyes, one of those gum-showing, nose-scrunching smiles. 

 

The next song Zelena had cued goes off, and at the familiar sultry tones of the saxophone Emma bounces from the couch to grab at the other mic.

 

It’s incredible, Regina thinks, how absolutely stupid the two of them look. They don’t even like each other, would never do this in any other context, but tonight on New Year’s Eve, a month past probably the most dramatic time of their lives, they’re making that exception over  _ Careless Whisper _ . Regina laughs and laughs, loses it over Emma’s sloppy harmonizing. 

 

The song fades and Emma pours another round for herself, Regina, and David. She raises her glass. “To George Michael!”

 

They raise their glasses with her. “To George Michael.”

 

*

 

When it’s close to midnight, after Zelena nearly falling off the balcony trying to watch the less than legal fireworks the dwarves were putting on, David sobering up to put Neal to sleep in the guest bedroom, and Snow singing lukewarm renditions of Diana Ross songs, half of them are already tired. Henry wakes up from the armchair to watch the Times Square countdown on TV. Regina runs her fingers through his hair as she leans against the chair, kazoo blowing in her mouth haphazardly but not apathetically. 

 

It always looks like such fun, Times Square. But also too crowded, too noisy, too flashy, especially against the comfort she’s finally found here. 

 

At twelve, the kisses on cheeks and hugs are passed around, full-on and awkward side-hugs slash back-pats alike. Another year survived. Another year to survive. “Happy New Year, Happy New Year, sweetheart.” (The mood is light and celebratory but Regina feels everyone quietly counting the faces they didn’t get to kiss, hugs they didn’t get to give.)

 

“Happy New Year,” Emma says to Regina, giving her a half lidded smile, and Regina’s not exactly sure what to do when Emma’s looking her right in the eye and Regina’s trying very hard not to look at her lips. She laughs and places a soft one on Emma’s cheek, under her eye. It lingers.

 

Everyone in the room pretends not to have seen it.

 

*

 

Zelena and Henry retreat upstairs; Snow, David and the baby go back home. Emma is left lying on Regina’s couch in that way Regina finds irritating, with her leg up on the back and arm hanging off the to the floor, head just nearly doing so. She looks like a mess, but right now Regina can’t help but smile.

 

“How are you?” she asks gently, leaning on the doorway. Her head feels heavy and the Earth feels like it’s turning just a little too fast for her balance. 

 

“Completely trashed,” Emma says, staring off at the wall. She looks a little dazed, like she was in the middle of a conversation in her mind. Regina wants to know what she’s thinking behind those pair of sad pensive eyes. She always wants to know, but never really asks.

 

Regina walks carefully to the couch, lifting Emma’s legs out of the way and onto her lap as she sits. “I’ll get you water and some blankets soon. You’re in no state to go home.”

 

“You say that like I wouldn’t stay anyway,” Emma says in that lop-sided smile that Regina wants to see more often than she does.

 

“And what is that supposed to mean,” Regina asks without a trace of accusation, asks it instead of  _ what’s on your mind, what are you thinking of _ .

 

Then the ghost of a smile is gone from Emma’s face and Regina wants to ask why, why. “Hook’s still looking for another place to move into.”

 

Something in Regina’s stomach churns at his name, at the way Emma has deflated so quickly in one night.

 

“Let him keep it.” Regina runs her palm up and down Emma’s shin. “You can live here.”

 

Emma moves her eyes down to meet hers. “Regina.”

 

“I mean it. I really do.”

 

Emma props herself up by the elbows with some effort, a hint of a scowl on her face. “So… what, we’re never going to talk about what happened after Gideon, but you’re going to ask me to… to move in?”

 

Regina shakes her head, and it’s too heavy, too heavy, weighed down not by alcohol but by thoughts, and thoughts, and thoughts. Of Hook’s kiss not working, of Regina’s shaking lips on Emma’s temple sealing up together the tissue of her body. Of Emma showing up at her door the night he broke up with her over it, crying. 

 

She waves those images away and focuses on the Emma in front of her. Alive and sad and silly and beautiful. Regina moves her hand to Emma’s knee, leans just a little closer. 

 

“Emma,” she says softly. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

 

“Regina…”

 

She moves closer, shifting her body and her hand gripping the edge of the couch with Emma in between her arms. She stares at the way her lips part when Regina’s hair falls on Emma’s neck, feels the way the air gets shallow between them.

 

“I said,” Regina breathes, just as gentle as before. The blood buzzes under her skin. “There’s nothing to  _ talk _ about.”

 

Emma looks at her. For a moment Regina is afraid that she’s made a fool of herself, that she’s misunderstood everything entirely. But then Emma catches up, the lines of her face a strange echo of that time Regina gave her that apple turnover years ago plus something more. She brings her hands behind Regina’s neck and pulls her down, meeting her with a hot and open mouth.

 

*  
  
  


In the morning, probably no later than 6AM by the faint light passing through the curtains, Regina is awakened by the quiet shut of her bathroom door and the soft, careful thuds of feet descending the staircase. She holds her breath for a moment, expecting to hear the front door creak open, but she doesn’t.

 

Blinking herself properly into consciousness, she brings her hands to her face and upon catching the scent, realizes in deep embarrassment what, and how much, they had done last night. Vague memories of things whispered into her ear at just the right time, of how she had to bite down on  _ something _ , and how that something may have been Emma’s shoulder. Her jaw is a little sore. So are her wrists. God. 

 

She checks her phone. Emma’s snapped her from her damn kitchen. A picture of the Keurig going,  _ making coffee if you want some _ , and Regina swipes to the right to say  _ of course i do, who do you think i am _ and backspaces all the way and sends back a thumbs up emoji instead. 

 

After a quick shower she throws on sweatpants and a thermal, damp hair clipped up out of the way. She comes down the stairs quietly but quickly, anxiety in the back of her mind of Emma not being there, of having already gone. But there Emma is, leaning back against the counter with a mug of coffee held to her lips, facing the window. The way the morning pours through it’s almost as if it has Emma suspended there, the light catching on stray wisps at her hairline. Regina almost doesn’t want time to move, just to look at her like this, calm and alive and glowing.

 

_ Glowing _ .

 

Emma turns her head to face her at the doorway, eyes wide and then going soft. The skin around her neck and cheeks have gone pink, and Regina feels her own face grow hot.

 

“Hey,” Emma says.

 

“Hey.”

 

“Coffee’s kind of lukewarm now.”

 

“I… don’t really care about the coffee,” Regina says with a sidelong smile.

 

Emma laughs, in the way that kind of lifts her entire body so slightly. Regina walks further into the kitchen and the way Emma’s body turns towards her so she can receive it with her hands is just so magnificent. Regina touches Emma’s collarbone, pulls away at the fabric of her sweater to reveal marks on her shoulder. She winces.

 

“Sorry.”

 

“Oh, that’s fine,” Emma says with raised eyebrows and a faint grin, looking at Regina and shaking her head slowly. “It’s really, really fine.”

 

Regina laughs and looks down, disbelieving. She’s  _ so _ in love and for a month she’s been hating it but right now, four hours of sleep and in Emma’s arms she’s… she’s  _ gone _ .

 

“Listen,” Regina says. “I was wrong last night, I.” She can feel Emma stiffen ever so slightly, and she brings up her thumb to press away the tension at Emma’s jaw. “We should talk.”

 

“Oh,” Emma says tentatively, and Regina wants to kiss all those worry lines away, wants to kiss the perpetual, vigilant tiredness off her face for good. 

 

She’s very well about to, when the most ill-timed _ boom _ of her miserably long  _ life _ shakes the fucking ground.

 

Regina jolts, an exasperated “fuck” outlined on her lips. 

 

Emma sighs, loosens herself away from Regina to trudge to the foyer. “I’ll get my damn coat.”

 

*  
  
  


There are a few reasons why Regina had been hesitant to simply “talk about it” with Emma.

 

For one, she wasn’t sure Emma even felt the same. Regina sees her own symptoms clear as day: how her heart is reminded of Daniel when she sees the crinkle in Emma’s eyes, how in trying to save Emma from bleeding out with a balming spell that wasn’t enough she perhaps wanted to kiss Emma’s mouth instead of her head, how she was always warm and achey and maybe even  _ pined _ . But she had no true way of knowing that Emma felt all that, too. (Not until last night, anyway, when she finally risked it.)

 

The second more obvious reason was Regina’s track record with falling in love with people in the first place. She  _ loses _ them. They have the particular tendency to  _ die _ . One day she’s going to have to make a choice that yet again costs her someone she loves, and it might be Emma and it might be not. 

 

And then of course, the third reason: the very fact that they live in Storybrooke, where something outrageous like  _ an entire building disappearing from the godforsaken ground _ happens on a day to day basis.

 

“How… on Earth,” Regina says, staring incredulously at the empty lot where the clock tower and library used to be, palms open in front of her as if she were just  _ holding _ the damn place in her hands. “Belle is going to have an aneurysm.”

 

Emma’s got her badge back on, taking a witness account from Leroy, who was walking the alcohol off before the library allegedly just, in his decorative words, “vanished the fuck away.”

 

“Thanks, Leroy,” she hears Emma say, “Go hydrate, or something. Happy New Year.”

 

“So?” Regina asks as Emma approaches her. Right now they’re just Mayor and Sheriff, not the two idiots that took years of near death experiences and a new year’s party to finally do something as simple as kiss on the mouth, and it kind of stings, but then Emma has a shitty half-grin and it stings less.

 

“Well, I guess you can say that the library pretty much  _ booked _ it out of here.” She nudges Regina with an elbow. “Eh?”

 

Regina glares, wonders how it’s possible to be so annoyed at someone and want to kiss them at the same time.

 

“Too early in the morning for bad jokes, gotcha.” 

 

“You didn’t even use it right.”

 

“Details.” Emma pockets her notepad and takes out her phone. “Leroy’s trashed out of his mind from whatever party he went to last night so his description wasn’t really helpful, but his snapchat story actually got it all, conveniently time-stamped. Said he took it because it started glowing.” 

 

Regina peers down over Emma’s shoulder (the one she bit, she tries not to think, fails) with a furrowed brow. She watches the building reflect an eerie blue light before blinking right out of existence, quick as lightning, with a thunderous noise to match.

 

“Why has snapchat replaced even eyewitness accounts?” Regina mumbles.

 

“Because it’s a damn good app, Regina.”

 

The police cruiser with David in it appears around the corner and makes its way toward the intersection. He comes out with a large cup of coffee, probably because Neal was wailing at four in the morning or something similar. 

 

“Whoa,” he says, scanning the damage. “It’s like that Doctor Who episode.”

 

“Well I don’t think aliens beamed up the place to the moon to look for a blood sucking fugitive,” Regina quips offhandedly, which earns some head-turns from David and Emma. She tugs down at her blazer, trying to look dignified but sort of failing cause she’s still got sweats on. “What? My love for sci-fi doesn’t begin and end with Star Wars.”

 

The corners of Emma’s mouth turns upward and Regina has to look away to contain her own smile. She sees David look between the two of them in the periphery of her vision before he shakes his head.

 

“Emma and I need to drive around town to see if the same thing’s happened anywhere else. We’ve got some other deputies taking the north side and Killian manning the phones.”

 

“Oh don’t even bother, everything’s probably on someone’s story,” Regina sighs, pretending not to see the way Emma shifts her weight to her other leg in discomfort.

 

“What was that?”

 

“Nothing. Let me know if you find anything.”

 

David nods and turns to get back inside the cruiser. Emma touches Regina’s wrist with her fingertips before deeming it safe to take her hand. “We’ll talk later?” she asks nervously.

 

Regina smiles. “Of course.” She takes a glance at David, sees him looking down at his phone the same way he stared at the songbook. She takes the chance and pecks Emma’s cheek before turning her around and pushing her on her way. When Emma gets into the car, her skin is pink.

 

* * *

 

 

Emma is antsy. She shakes her legs in the car and David has to gently tell her four times to stop it, to which she replies with a quiet  _ sorry _ . 

 

“This is weird stuff, but nothing we can’t handle, Emma,” David assures her as he drives down Main Street, puts on a signal to turn left at 1 st Ave. “We’ll figure it out soon.”

 

“I hope so.”

 

She scans the streets, looking for any suspicious gaps. The radio is still silent, so no reports of more missing buildings. 

 

Her phone blips and it’s a text message from Regina, which naturally, makes her stomach do gay acrobatics. 

 

_ zelena read me like a book _ is all the preview says.

 

David glances at her at a stop sign, and when she turns her head to look back there’s a quizzical look on his face that makes her a little uneasy, cuts her giddy feeling short.

 

“What?”

 

David turns back to the road and drives. “Did you stay over at Regina’s last night?”

 

Emma sinks into the passenger seat and keeps looking off ahead of her for missing buildings. “Yeah.”

 

He doesn’t say anything for a good minute or two, letting Emma think that there’s no follow-up but then there is. It’s in the way he’s smiling the way Henry does sometimes. 

 

“You know you’re practically glowing, sweetheart.”

 

God, her damn dad–– “Dad, please, holy shit.” She nearly faints.

 

David presses his lips tightly together in an attempt to keep in his excited smile. “Keep on the lookout, Emma,” he reminds her.

 

“I am.”

 

“Mm.”

 

Emma clicks her teeth. “What is it you want me to say, David? That yeah, Regina and I made out, and then yeah, we got naked, I sung  _ Versace on the Floor _ at her, and then––“

 

David’s grin is wiped out of existence so quickly. “That’s––that’s not what I was looking for, Emma.” Emma feels a tinge of satisfaction to go with being mortified.

 

_ same here with david _ , Emma types to Regina in between looking at the streets.  _ like a goddamn children’s story _ .

 

“Emma.” David’s voice is urgent and he stops the car suddenly.

 

She peers up and sees nothing.  _ Nothing _ . “The station is gone.” 

 

“This isn’t good. Hook was in there.”

 

“And my new mini-fridge,” Emma whispers. “Fuck.”

 

David stares at her. 

 

“Look, Dad, I had a thing of donuts inside––“

 

“Emma.”

 

“Alright,  _ alright _ ,” Emma exhales, articulating her t’s a little too harshly and unbuckling her seatbelt. “I’ll call Regina.”

 

*

  
  
  


Regina doesn’t answer. She’s probably down in her vault looking for answers and Emma should have figured that reception would’ve been shaky there. In her mind she pushes away the thought that maybe it’s Regina avoiding her, but reminds herself of her lips on her cheek before sending her off. (The asshole that her brain is counters with,  _ but she sent you off, though _ .)

 

She holds it together and works out a list of precautions the rest of the townsfolk should take should their very homes pop out of existence, somehow manages to get her hands on bunch of tents for people to camp out in in case, updates the Storybrooke Sheriff’s Dept. twitter with that diplomatic style Regina at podiums and elections had taught her. Wrestles with the yellow tape stretched across lampposts before she gives up and opts orange cones.

 

It’s Snow who asks Emma why she doesn’t just fetch Regina herself. Emma barks out a laugh. She covers it up and says, “If she’s concentrating I don’t want to bother.” What she doesn’t say is,  _ are you joking, do you know what I might do if I’m alone with Regina right now, don’t you know I’m not about to desecrate the family tomb like that _ .

 

Snow looks at her fondly, brushes Emma’s hair back behind her ear with her finger. Emma flushes. Of course Snow knows. She may not know where Emma put her mouth last night but she knows where Regina put her lips last month and what had happened because of it. Like a giant Facebook announcement that screamed it’s very, very, very, very complicated. Let the whole goddamn town know before they could even  _ talk _ about it.

 

The sun is setting when her phone rings and Emma’s glad to get out of that stupid tent.

 

“I just got your messages, sorry,” Regina says before Emma can even say  _ hey _ . “Just the station and library and Hook?”

 

“Yep.”

 

“Okay,” Emma can hear the nod in Regina’s inflections. “All I’ve been able to determine is that this is something related to the original curse I cast. It’s being disrupted somehow.”

 

“Any prognosis then?”

 

“Can’t say, no.”

 

Emma wants to say fuck the library and the station and Hook and the mini-fridge, but they’ve got  _ jobs _ to do, as sheriffs and mayors and saviors and queens. “Um,” she begins, closing her eyes and feeling tension at her brow and in her knees. “At my place, there’s um. Stuff we can use for a locator spell. Hook’s things. If we can find him maybe we’ll know where everything else is.”

 

“Okay.” There’s a pause. “I can go alone. You don’t have to be there.”

 

Emma swallows, her lungs getting tight. “No, no. I’ll meet you there. I’ve got the key still.”

 

“Okay.”

 

_ I love you _ . Emma’s mind burns. “Cool.”

 

*

 

Regina picks one of his rings, places it on the table, and pays no more mind to it. Emma’s laying on her bed––the bed she shared with him, but with him gone to probably another dimension and Regina here, it feels okay. It feels like just some comfy mattress she bought, except not really, because Emma owning furniture is never “just” owning furniture. Not that Hook ever got that, anyway.

 

She feels the side of the bed creak down. Emma opens her eyes and sees Regina looking down at her in this way that makes her feel so bright and warm.

 

“What are you thinking,” Regina asks softly.

 

“Nothing,” Emma lies. She gently tugs on Regina’s sleeve. “Lay down with me.”

 

“And why would I do that?” Regina teases as she lowers herself down, brings her legs up. 

 

“Because,” Emma says with a thumb tracing Regina’s jaw. “It’s bad luck to work so hard on New Year’s day.”

 

There’s a flash of something that goes through Regina’s eyes as she grins and oh, okay. That’s hot. Regina propping herself up to hover over Emma and staring at her mouth, is hot.

 

“Really? Cause I think you’re about to get lucky.”

 

Emma bursts out in laughter that has Regina following suit and kissing Emma’s face and mouth and neck and soon has her breathing hard because god does Regina know how to use her teeth. The thought of still needing to have the conversation from this morning flits across her mind, but Emma’s not unhappy to let it go as Regina moves back on her knees only to have her hands unbuttoning Emma’s jeans. She’s tried so hard not to envision this the moment she saw Regina waiting at the front door but yeah, it’s happening, so. Emma hooks her thumbs underneath the waistband of the pants she took off just like this last night and pulls it down with Regina.

 

She reaches up for Regina’s blazer but she catches her hand, kissing it. “Let’s focus on you,” she says, and Emma’s entire body fires up.

 

Regina lets go to run a hand down Emma’s navel and down to where she’s already embarrassingly wet, only amplified with the realization that they’re literally going to have sex on the bed she and her ex-boyfriend slept in.  

 

“It’s funny,” Emma chances, dizzy, breathy at the way Regina parts her legs and hovers her mouth there. “Hook’s never said that before.”

 

A sultry laugh escapes Regina’s lips. “I assume he’s never done  _ this _ before either.” She slides her hot tongue  _ up _ and oh, fuck, this is so different sober and completely lucid.

 

“Nope,” Emma squeaks, grips the sheets until her knuckle go white when Regina swirls around her clit and sucks, slides in two fingers and lets it curl. “Nope. Nope he did not.” The truth is they never even got this far. Regina laughs again, against her this time, the vibrations working in tandem with her mouth and god, fuck, fuck, fuck. What a life she’s lived to be here, on her back, thighs shaking, with Regina in between them, for the second time, two nights in a row.

 

“Do you have any idea,” Regina murmurs in between sucking and Emma’s whimpering, meeting her gaze from below, “Just how beautiful you are?”

 

“Do  _ you _ have any clue how fucking  _ hot _ you are,” Emma rasps and Regina just digs in deeper and she’s  _ almost, almost there _ when––

 

BOOM.

 

“Oh for  _ FUCK’S SAKE _ ,” Emma shouts, and there’s no longer a  _ there _ to get to.

 

*

 

The clock tower is back. The library is back. The station is back. The mini-fridge with the donuts are back.  _ Hook _ is back.

 

“Good,” Emma says, with bitterness. “Nice. Fantastic. I’m so glad. I’m so glad!”

 

Between this and Regina discreetly wiping at the sides of her mouth every two minutes while they stand in public, Emma has had enough for the day. Tonight, she’s sleeping in her parents’ goddamn tent.

 

*

  
  


When Town Hall is the next to go, Regina texts her to meet her at Gold’s shop. Emma sighs herself back to life, puts on a coat and scarf, and heads there by foot.

 

“You were up early this morning,” Regina comments primly as she opens the door for Emma. She puts on a wry smile, because the only reason Regina knows that is a snap she sent of the black sky, timestamped and captioned with  _ stargaze it _ . 

 

“Oh don’t look so annoyed,” Emma says, walking in. “I saw you take a screenshot.”

 

Regina’s eyes widen as she looks back up at her. “People can see that?” 

 

Gold coughs from behind the counter and right. He exists. This is his shop. Regina shakes her head.

 

“Never mind. I called you here because we need to find the source of the curse’s disruption.”

 

“And… we’re going to do that how?”

 

“This.”

 

Regina steps to the side to reveal something taking up absurd amounts of space in the middle of the shop.

 

Emma crosses her arms. “A coin funnel.”

 

Regina furrows her brow and gestures to it irritatedly. “It is  _ not _ a coin funnel, it’s…” She stares at the thing and drops her arms. “Huh.”

 

“It’s a magical device, Miss Swan,” Gold says with an amount of Goldesque derision. “With enough input, it reveals the distribution of magic across a specific location.”

 

“So a  _ magical _ coin funnel.”

 

“Yes. Fine. A  _ coin funnel _ .”

 

“What’s next, guys?” Emma throws her hands up in the air as she walks towards the funnel that’s like big enough to be a jacuzzi or something. “An enchanted Roomba? Or do you all prefer Neato instead. ”

 

“Oh stop it,” Regina mumbles, taking a quarter from atop the counter. “Give me your hand.”

 

Emma does as she says, not without feeling her cheeks get hot at the way Regina holds her wrist, places Emma’s palm over hers with the coin in between.

 

She can feel Gold’s stare burning her and she hopes that all he can hear from her mind is her perpetual internal screaming.

 

“I need you to channel your magic into the coin,” Regina says, and Emma can only respond with a muttered “oh my god,” cause they’re going to use  _ a quarter _ super charged with their magic on a  _ coin funnel _ and it has nothing to do with donation. 

 

They watch Emma and Regina’s magic beam and glow until the quarter feels like poprocks in their palms. Emma lets go, clears her throat. Gold walks around the counter, holds out his hand and Regina drops the glowing coin into it. Emma quirks an eyebrow.

 

“Why do _you_ need to do it?”

 

Gold coughs, and Emma’s starting to wonder if he’s genuinely got the cold or what. “The inserting point’s a tad crooked. The Mayor over here can’t figure out how to compensate.”

 

Regina grumbles in response. The three of them stand around the funnel, equidistant, uncomfortable somehow, ridiculous. Gold puts in the quarter.

 

It circles. And circles. And circles. Emma flicks her eyes up to see Gold and Regina staring intently at the quarter. No one says a thing. Why isn’t anyone saying anything. Gold makes brief eye-contact with her once, swallows a lump in his throat. Regina’s clenching her jaw, waiting with her fists on her hip.

 

“Don’t tell me you used to collect rent like this back in the day, Rumple,” Emma says in an attempt to dissipate the tension.

 

“Don’t be absurd.” He frowns. “Yes.”

 

Emma lets out a weak laugh but Regina doesn’t, instead she gives her a nervous stare before going back to watching the quarter orbit the funnel endlessly. The coin has reached the opening, is already on its way to the inevitable descent but it keeps spinning, the annoying whizzes getting faster and louder. She can feel the sweat slide down to the small of her back. Emma’s still confused about the atmosphere the three of them have, and then it hits her, clear and simple.

 

_ There was always a certain amount of chemistry. _

 

_ Oh my God _ . That’s why.

 

They’re both trying not to think about how the three of them are a goddamn  _ chain of indirect fluids _ holy  _ fuck gross gross gross.  _ Emma’s eyes have gone wide with panic and she’s trying not to make her distress visible and  _ failing  _ as she watches this goddamn coin spin because holy  _ shitsacks _ ––

 

The quarter  _ finally _ drops in and a beam of light from the vortex bursts into a trail outside the shop.

 

“Thank  _ God! _ ” Emma yells, and runs to follow it.

  
  


*  
  
  
  


The stream of light leads her and Regina to the spot where Emma fought Gideon. Where she had a sword shoved through her abdomen, where she nearly bled out in Regina’s arms. 

 

Where Regina kissed her head, and made the blood go away.

 

Except now there’s a giant fucking crack there.

 

It’s big enough to fall into, if someone’s not careful. The interior glows a sinister kind of green, and it steams a little. Regina holds out her hands in that incredulous way again.

 

“How did we miss this?”

 

Emma holds up her phone. “It was put on the Storybrooke Story a few hours ago. Dammit, Regina, I keep telling you,  _ it’s a damn good app _ . Instead we had to endure whatever  _ that _ was in Gold’s shop––“

 

“Emma.” Regina isn’t listening. She’s still looking at the trench in the ground.

 

“What?”

 

“It’s coming from here.”

 

“Yes, I’m pretty sure that’s why the coin funnel lead us here.”

 

“Yes, but––“

 

Then the Earth shakes, followed by loud thunderous  _ boom _ .

 

“I’m guessing that’s Town Hall back from vacation,” Emma says.

 

“Emma, look.”

 

Regina points down, at the way the crack has expanded.  The look on her face a blend of all sorts of things that Emma can’t decode. “The curse is breaking.”

 

“What? No. The curse is  _ already _ broken.”

 

“Yes, but––the disappearances of parts of town? That’s the part of the curse going back and forth between existing and not existing. And this,” she gestures at the crack. “It’s been here for more than just a couple of days. The concentration of magic here is large but it hasn’t been sudden. It’s been gradual.”

 

“Gradual… as in one month in the making,” Emma says, following her train of thought. 

 

She meets Regina’s gaze and they  _ stare _ .

 

“Do you mean to tell me,” Emma begins slowly, getting a little bit louder as she goes, “that you kissing me alive one month ago here  _ broke _ Storybrooke’s  _ space-time continuum _ ?!”

 

“Well when you put it  _ that way _ ,” Regina sputters in frustration, eyes wide and hands in the air.

 

“Oh my God, Regina.”

 

“Listen, I don’t make the rules here I just relay them.”

 

“Is that that, then? The next time we make out or something it’s the destruction of the Storybrooke itself?”

 

“Emma.”

 

“You know maybe it’s a sign. Maybe there was a mistake here. Maybe we fucked up on New Year’s eve.”

 

“ _ Emma _ .” Regina grabs Emma’s arms and stills them. She wasn’t even aware she’d been flinging them. “What’s gotten into you?”

 

Emma’s cheeks burn, she feels embarrassed. She looks down and laughs, sardonically. “Oh, nothing. It’s not like my doubts of you  _ actually _ liking me are getting bigger and bigger with the passage of time, it’s totally chill.”

 

“Emma,” Regina says sternly. “We literally shared a true love’s kiss that was so powerful it created this crack on the ground, which is currently disrupting the magical field of the original curse itself.”

 

“I  _ know _ !” Emma whines. She slumps her head on Regina’s shoulder, and Regina pulls her in for a full hug. How she could have so much love for her, so much mercy, she doesn’t know. 

 

“Of  _ course _ I like you,” Regina says, the same way she had uttered  _ I don’t  _ want _ to kill you _ a long time ago. She sways her in the hug.

 

“I know. I’m sorry.”

 

“I’m sorry, too. We should’ve talked sooner. But we’ll get there, after we clean up this mess, and you can stop sleeping in a damn tent. Alright?”

 

Emma breathes, gets goosebumps when Regina turns her head to give her sloppy kisses on her cheek. “Okay.”

 

*

 

Listening to Regina and Zelena spit magical jargon at each other back and forth in Regina’s study reminds her of when she took this philosophy class in community college before she dropped out. Two boys who took John Locke too seriously discussing and arguing about what composes the self and the exact definition of a  _ continuous organic substance, _ always dominating the space, Emma always mentally checking out and doodling cartoons in the margins of her notes.

 

Of course, that shit had annoyed her so much she wanted to go back in time just to put a fist into John Locke’s gut. With  _ this _ however, she’s just vaguely… turned on.

 

“That couldn’t possibly work,” Regina says exasperatedly.

 

“And have you tried?”

 

“Does it  _ look _ like I have one hundred frog tongues to spare? That curse was written by a complete hack anyway. They didn’t take into account magnetic fields.”

 

“Oh, and  _ you _ constantly do.” Zelena angrily flips a page of the giant book she’s got open.

 

“Yes, I do.”

 

“A time-freezing curse. Localize it.”

 

“Mm-mm. Burns out too quickly. Also requires an infant.”

 

“Ironic. A dampening curse.”

 

“Isn’t specific enough. Need something that’s less nitrous oxide, more lidocaine.”

 

Emma quirks an eyebrow. 

 

“Analogy-wise,” Regina clarifies.

 

_ Boom _ . The three of them look up at each other, and then Emma pulls out her phone. “It was Granny’s Diner this time guys, the town is going to starve if we don’t get this together.”

 

“Oh please, by town you mean  _ you _ ,” Zelena quips. 

 

“Look,” Emma sighs, “Is there, like. Is there anything  _ I _ can help with? This stuff is just… out of my league.”

 

Zelena puts her elbows on the desk, rests her chin on folded hands as she stares intently at Emma. It makes her nervous.

 

“What?”

 

She ignores her discomfort, narrows her eyes at her as she thinks. “You said the rift was caused by a true love’s kiss?”

 

“Yes?” Emma says. 

 

“Ah…” Zelena exhales, “That’s what we’ve been missing. It’s not a  _ curse _ we should be looking for.”

 

Regina makes an excited closed mouth noise as she jolts upright and gestures for her to keep going with her hands.

 

“Acids and bases, not bandaids or patches.” Zelena puts her hand down like she had declared a law. “Neutralize what your disgustingly sweet love has done. We need something made from  _ hate _ .”

 

The grin on Regina’s face is almost  _ frightening. _

 

(And hot. It is also hot.)

 

*

 

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Emma asks as Regina dangles Hook’s ring over the trench.

 

“‘Dunno,” Regina shrugs with all too much delight. “But I really do hate him, so it’s worth a try.”

 

Emma bites back laughter. Instead she watches Regina concentrate her gaze on the ring, observes as it goes from silver to glowing red to white-hot and boy would Emma  _ love _ to know what kind of beef Regina’s had with him and for how long. Emma wonders if Regina would prefer to push the real thing down the crack, and the quick conclusion from the way Regina  _ throws _ the ring rather than lets it fall is yes, yes she would.

 

She gets it on Snapchat. It’s the first 4:20 snap of hers that Regina’s ever willingly been in. It’s really, really sweet, and of all the gestures of love Regina has shown her, this is the oddest one.

 

The ground rumbles and the two of them step back as the trench closes up, the green turning white and letting out its last puffs of steam. When the lining meets it forms something that looks like a scar, and it’s kind of… beautiful. Emma gets a text that the diner is back. Good, she thinks, because life without onion rings would be a bummer, even if she still had life with Regina. 

 

Regina lets out a relieved sigh.

 

“Quarter for your thoughts?” Emma asks, and Regina smirks.

 

“I’ll compile a list for you later,” she says, and kisses her.

 

* * *

 

This is three years in the making: Regina, beautiful and naked and sweating and panting on her back with the lipstick kissed right off her face, with Emma’s fingers inside of her. Repeating Emma’s name like it’s made of magic, humming and breathing and groaning and yelling. Emma sighing Regina’s like it’s the birthplace of stars, like it would be the last thing she’d ever say before she died hands down. When Emma puts an open mouth over Regina’s breast it’s the product of three years of fighting, of finding, of betrayals and forgiveness. Two lifetimes of losing loves and false in-loves, of performances, and converging into a place where masks can fall away. A history of the trials of sharing a son and sharing traumas and of pining and denial. Lots, and lots, and lots of denial. Tupperwares and Pyrex full, trucks full, portals full. And then a near death experience, a kiss, and one month later, here they are. Fucking and loving and doing so without apology, without anyone or any damn magical mishap in their way.

 

It’s good.

 

Emma leaves a trail of open mouthed kisses down to Regina’s navel where she feels her muscles taut and shaking, down to her hip and down to her cunt, slick and hot and sticky. Regina’s heavy breaths go erratic, releasing a long whine that sounds almost orchestral against Emma’s noisy and hungry pops of her lips. Regina’s blood pulses everywhere and she hears it like a drum, dizzying and infinite and weightless. The only constant rhythm when everything else is quickening and quickening, Emma’s rough hand clutching the fleshy part of Regina’s thigh and opening her legs further. She leaves purple-pink marks there with her mouth before returning to her clit and not even minding how much her wrist aches, bent at an impossible angle. 

 

When Regina comes, hard, slow, biting the back of her hand, trembling at the thighs and hips and abdomen, Emma murmurs something about composers wishing they could arrange something that sounded even close to the way her lungs ejected loud exhales, crescendoing whimpers that culminated in the long  _ Em-ma  _ that left the back of her throat. (“How poetic,” Regina rasps, before being rendered silent by Emma’s continuous sucking, drawing one one more climax after another.)

 

Regina sits up, marveling at the wet sheen of Emma’s lips and chin as she crawls upward to kiss her. She kisses and licks her until it’s gone and replaced with a different sheen, wipes it off with the base of her palm, electricity running through her when Emma’s hot tongue grazes the center of it. Her lips part dumbly at it, and Emma laughs.

 

“You’re cute.”

 

“You’re amazing,” Regina says reverently. “I think I’d like to show you how amazing you are.”

 

Emma cups her face, kisses her sweetly again and again. “I think there’s some time for that.”

 

Regina laughs into her mouth, wraps her arm around Emma’s shoulders to lower her down onto the pillow where she doesn’t stop kissing her lips, her face, nose, eyes. Her hand slithers down to Emma’s clit, and Emma moans at the noisy contact. Regina rubs in circles, savoring Emma’s sighs and how she holds her breath only to let out a soft  _ fuck _ . She has her cradled lovingly, whispering into her ear a list of things Regina loves about her, from her stupid obsession with snapchat to the way she brings light wherever she goes, how wonderfully she loves, how gorgeous, how intelligent, how silly. How blessed she is to be able to finally kiss that vigilant tiredness from her face and bring the shine back to her eyes.

 

Her hand moves quicker and quicker, Emma’s whole body quivering. She cries out against Regina’s neck, hips rocking to the gentle  _ that’s it _ s and  _ come on _ s. This is how tired and weary find each other: in each other’s arms, tangled in each other’s legs. Breathing, humming. 

  
When Regina checks her phone, a text sent from Zelena an hour ago contains just a moving gif:  _ congrats on the sex. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. don't follow regina's and emma's example when they first hit it: use words to ascertain consent, please do talk, etc etc lmao 
> 
> 2\. idk why snapchat was such a presence, but it was.
> 
> 3\. keep an eye out for magical roombas...
> 
>  
> 
> and now for some pillowtalk....


	2. epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> or, count how many times Emma and Regina can say "I love you" in one conversation.

(“ _So.”_

 

_“So?”_

 

_“When did you know. Like…”_

 

_“When did I know what?”_

 

_“Stop laughing at me. When did you know… that you loved me.”_

 

_“Hmm… It’s hard to say. Maybe… Hm, no, that’s not it. Or maybe it was.”_

 

_“Regina. Words.”_

 

_“I love you, I love you. Mmm… It probably first started when you pulled me out of that fire.”_

 

_“Holy shit.”_

 

_“What?”_

 

_“That was a long time ago.”_

 

_“I suppose it was.”_

 

_“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”_

 

 _“Why didn’t_ you _?”_

 

_“Hm. Good point.”_

 

_“I didn’t even really know until much later. Maybe Neverland.”_

 

_“Oh.”_

 

_“Mhm.”_

 

_“Mmm. So. Like. I mean, with Robin. So what was that.”_

 

_“It was real. Sort of. It was at some point. I just needed… someone to hope for. I thought he was my only shot.”_

 

_“Don’t cry.”_

 

_“It’s okay.”_

 

_“It’s literally the most heartbreaking thing in the world.”_

 

_“Kiss them away, if you’re so inclined.”_

 

_“Yeah maybe I will––“_

 

_“––Mmm, okay stop, the tickling is unnecessary––“_

 

_“––Yeah? Yeah?––“_

 

_“Emma.”_

 

_“Okay. Okay. I love you.”_

 

_“I love you. Now you tell me when you realized.”_

 

_“Uh, shit, um… Funny story, the first time I ever met you––“_

 

_“Mmm this is going to be good.”_

 

_“Shut up. Stop laughing. The first time I ever met you, I was like. Holy shit. Wow. Christ. Mother Mary.”_

 

_“So you went to church the next day or what.”_

 

_“I had flashbacks to catechism when I was nine.”_

 

_“Troublesome.”_

 

_“And then you did really dumb shit like sit on my desk as I came into the Sheriff’s room like. Who does that.”_

 

_“I do. I liked playing with you.”_

 

_“Yeah, gay.”_

 

_“Hmm.”_

 

_“And then uh, when Henry was trapped in like the elevator shaft with Archie. And you just got close and looked me square in the eye. That’s when I felt something first.”_

 

_“Lust before love, how flattering.”_

 

_“Listen. You’re hot as hell.”_

 

_“You’re not bad yourself.”_

 

_“The thought that maybe I had feelings for you was in Neverland, too. But it was like––I didn’t think you would––and so I just––I––”_

 

_“It’s okay. Take your time. Or none at all, you don’t have to tell me.”_

 

_“No, I want to. I stomped it out, went nope. Didn’t want it. Are you mad at me?”_

 

_“No, of course not. I felt the same.”_

 

_“I got jealous of the way you looked at Robin. Was like, man, why didn’t she look at me like that, and then I realized hey that’s kind of like… gay. Hey, stop laughing at me.”_

 

_“I’m not laughing at you.”_

 

_“And when I realized this was like, a thing I was going to be feeling for good, it was, um… okay, don’t… be mad.”_

 

_“Go on.”_

 

_“It was on the roof when you were getting rid of the Evil Queen.”_

 

_“Oh…”_

 

_“No, wait. I just wanted you to do whatever you needed to be happy. And then I realized, once there were two of you that––I don’t know, there was something off. I’m sorry I said all those things about you, about the queen. And then you two were together again and then it felt right. So that was actually when I knew.”_

 

_“Hmm. Late.”_

 

_“Stop. And stop crying, holy god, I love you.”_

 

_“I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you.”_

 

_“It’s not a competition.”_

 

_“No, it’s not. I love you.”_

 

_“You little shit.”_

 

_“Tell me why you didn’t say anything when Robin was gone.”_

 

_“God, what did you want me to do. Swoop in and just… you know?”_

 

_“Hmm.”_

 

_“And you still had feelings. I was right there and Fake Robin shot a goddamn arrow at us and you still––“_

 

_“I’m sorry.”_

 

_“It’s okay. But yeah.”_

 

_“I chose you in the end. I thought that would’ve let you know.”_

 

_“I didn’t know, because you added the Henry Reason in the end, like we always do.”_

 

_“The Henry Reason?”_

 

_“You know, like. I risk my life obviously for you, and say it’s for Henry, or like, the greater good or something. Henry was about to kill you in the fake dream world and it was you. You made me remember.  You and him. But I made it about only him. You know. Things like that.”_

 

_“So…”_

 

_“Everything is still for Henry. But this doesn’t have to be. You and me, I mean.”_

 

_“Mm.”_

 

_“What are you thinking?”_

 

_“Still thinking.”_

 

_“Okay… so-omeday my queen will come…”_

 

_“I think she already did, quite a few times tonight.”_

 

_“La da di-daaaa, you sma-art ass, la di da… Don’t fall asleep on me, now.”_

 

_“I can’t help it if you’re voice is so… princess.”_

 

_“Ugh.”_

 

_“Hmm. Okay. I was just thinking about. How afraid we’ve been.”_

 

_“Yeah… yeah.”_

 

_“And how… how miserable I would’ve been, if that true love’s kiss didn’t work. Not that I expected it to. I thought you were going to die.”_

 

_“It was kinda funny. You were the one who was like, yeah right Emma, you’re not going to die.”_

 

_“And then you were going to. And I tried everything.”_

 

_“Shh. You did it. You saved me. You save me all the time.”_

 

_“Stop.”_

 

_“You save me every time you look at me. Like who’s the real savior here, me or you? Obviously you.”_

 

_“You really are your parents’ daughter. Corny and sweet and…”_

 

_“That’s not a fair comparison. You love me.”_

 

_“I do.”_

 

_“I can’t believe I get to hear that.”_

 

_“That I love you?”_

 

_“Yes.”_

 

_“Why wouldn’t you? I do, I do, I do, I do, I do.”_

 

_“Wow, now I know who introduced Zelena to ABBA.”_

 

_“Mmm, I love you. Mwah, I love you. Mwah, mwah.”_

 

_“You’re gross.”_

 

_“Where do we go from here?”_

 

_“Is there anywhere else to go to? We were already wanting to die for each other long before that true love’s kiss exposed us, so.”_

 

_“What do we tell Henry?”_

 

_“He knows. Everybody knows. Especially that damn sister of yours, how’d she learn how to use gifs like that.”_

 

_“I’m aware of that, but–– are we dating? Girlfriends? Partners?”_

 

_“Ooooh, damn, I haven’t even taken you out on a real date yet. Yikes.”_

 

_“You have plenty of time for that.”_

 

_“Hmmm. Yes, Regina. Be my goddamn girlfriend. I’ll take you to my favorite spot at this place called Granny’s Diner… What are you giggling on about.”_

 

_“It sounds funny. Being girlfriends. Going out on dates.”_

 

_“What, do you like… gal pals, better, or?”_

 

_“Stop it. You’re cute. Just who we are, you know, as people. It sounds almost too normal.”_

 

_“Yeah, well, knowing our luck our dates’ll be crashed by the monster of the week.”_

 

_“Knock on wood, Emma Swan. Emma, I mean it. Give me your hand. Knock.”_

 

_“Why are you so worried?”_

 

_“Because I want that date at Granny’s.”_

 

_“I love you.”_

 

_“Then knock.”_

 

_“Alright, alright. Superstitious much. There. I knocked on the damn wood.”_

 

_“Thank you.”_

 

_“Mmm…Mmmm, uh––oh––ah, Regina, I’m a little tired, so I don’t think I can––“_

 

_“Right. Sorry. You’re irresistible.”_

 

_“So I’ve heard.”_

 

_“….”_

 

_“….”_

 

_“….”_

 

_“… Regina.”_

 

_“Mm.”_

 

_“I feel safe with you. I don’t think I’ve told you that.”_

 

_“There’s nowhere else in this world or the Old one where I feel safer.”_

 

_“Ah, God. Fuck.”_

 

_“Shhh. Shhh. Go to sleep now. You’re basically talking in your sleep.”_

 

_“Okay. Goodnight. Nice pillowtalk.”_

 

_“Goodnight.”_

 

_“…”_

 

_“…”_

 

_“…”)_

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> many, many thanks to strangesmallbard for letting me C&P literally everything on skype, help me figure out what on earth a plot is, proofreading, all that good stuff. steph is the MVP.
> 
> thank you so much for reading!


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